The Bewitched Box Set

by W. J. May

  “Lucian, no!”

  I struggle to finish what I have begun as hands pull at me and attempt to rip me away from his limp body. My head jerks around and the first faces I see are Edmond, Caspar, Jazlynn and Julian, while the rest of my family stand back; reinforcement if needed, I guess. I am forced to let go of the angel’s neck and watch his body, snake-like, slither down the length of the tree, where he lies still, in a state of unconsciousness.

  “Lucian, what are you doing?” Edmond’s amber eyes are as red as burning fire. “The rules are written!” he spits into my face. “Whatever your grudge is, you know we are not allowed to kill humans.”

  “He’s not a human, Edmond, he’s a damn angel, so the rules don’t count! Get off me and let me finish what I have started.”

  I snatch my arm from his hold and turn, but what I see leaves me cold. My Rose has Tristan’s head cradled in her folded arms and I see her tears spill one by one onto his face. He has managed to turn my dream into a nightmare. I watch as she leans forward, looking directly into his face, though this image I’m allowed only momentarily, for her dark hair falls like a curtain, allowing them their privacy.

  With a slight turn of her head and her hair flicked behind her shoulders, her eyes rise and meet mine.

  “What kind of monster are you?” she manages to ask between sobs. “You could have killed him.”

  That was my intention, I am about to add, though seeing her distress I think better of it. I look towards Tristan’s body, which lies lifeless before me; the rise and fall of his chest slows as each second passes. I’m sure it is only a matter of moments before this fallen angel takes his last breath.

  “Edmond, lock him in the castle dungeon while I think of something better to do with him, and, Rose, you will come with me.”

  Story 11 – Jin in Time – Part One – by Karin De Havin

  ––––––––

  Book Description:

  Spending senior year with the father who abandoned her is the last thing seventeen-year-old Esme wanted. But when her guardian grandmother dies, she has no choice. The only thing she has left of her once happy life is her grandmother’s antique vase—until she discovers it comes with a bowler-hatted genie. Jin guarantees he’ll do whatever it takes to make Esme happy again. Terrific news.

  Esme soon realizes hiding a genie isn’t easy, so she gives Jin a modern makeover and stashes him in the school library. One tiny hiccup—her dad’s the principal. When word spreads that Esme is spending all her free time with a cute British guy, she’s busted, and her dad uses his all-powerful parental authority to ground her. Then she learns her father plans to marry a woman who could win evil-stepmother-of-the-year. Plus her daughter is the top mean girl at Esme's new high school.

  Esme hopes to turn her luck around now that she has a genie to help her deal with her problems. But she soon realizes that ten wishes aren’t so awesome when she finds out they are powered by Victorian-era magic. And she thought having a genie would be fun.

  ***Attention Readers: This is Part One and all your questions won’t be answered until Part Two.***

  Jin in Time

  Copyright © 2015 by Karin De Havin

  Published by 9 Yards Publishing

  Cover design by No Sweat Graphics

  Edited by Carolyn M. Pinard

  All rights reserved

  ––––––––

  This book is the property of Karin De Havin, in all media both physical and digital. No one, except the owner of this property, may reproduce, copy or publish in any medium any individual story or part of this book without the expressed permission of the author of this work. This is a work of fiction. The characters, places, brands, and events portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without express written permission of the author. This eBook is licensed for your enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

  Acknowledgements

  ––––––––

  A huge thank you to my main critique partner Craig for his support and occasional hand slapping. To my wonderful critique group Laurie, Donna, Sandy, and Barbara, for patiently reading the early drafts of Jin In Time. To my other fearless critique group Romi, Nicole, Will, Lizzie and Jen. Thanks for making critique meetings a blast and for believing in my genie story. And to Wanita my mentor, and awesome writing buddy.

  Last but not least I’d like to say thank you to my family for believing in me. Thanks to my best friend Cynthia for being a great cheerleader. An extra special thank you to my husband Dave, without his amazing support Jin In Time would never have become a reality.

  ––––––––

  Table of Contents

  Jin In Time Part One

  Chapter One-Time Machine

  Chapter Two-Big Man on Campus

  Chapter Three-Where There’s Smoke There’s Fire

  Chapter Four-Lost & Found

  Chapter Five-Boyfriend Blues

  Chapter Six-Father Knows Best

  Chapter Seven-Weenie World & Other Torture

  Chapter Eight-Mars Life

  Preview of Jin In Time Part Two

  Chapter One -Turn of Events

  Bonus Preview of Nine Lives Part One

  Chapter One-No Freakin Way!

  * * *

  Chapter One

  Time Machine

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  No one told me when Grandma died my life would be over, too. I take in Dad’s vintage ranch, AKA my new home. Burnt orange walls greet me in the entryway. A huge stone fireplace dominates the wood-paneled living room.

  He hands me my roller bag. “Esme, it’s good to have you home again.”

  He’s lying. I point to his blacklight poster collection. “The place is like a time machine.”

  “I thought you’d like it.” He beams. “Brings back memories.”

  Like the day Dad left me with Grandma. “It sure does.”

  I put my head down so he can’t see the anger in my eyes. “You mind if I rest a bit?”

  “Of course. We’ll catch up later.”

  Sure. We have eight years to cover. I nod and head down the hall.

  Dad calls after me. “I’ll wake you up when dinner is ready.”

  Remembering Dad’s cooking skills, I hope he orders a pizza. I open the door to my bedroom. All I want to do is crash, but the package in my bag calls to me—it’s the only thing of Grandma’s I have left.

  I pull the box out of my roller bag and remove the bubble wrap covering an antique vase. It must be very old with so many tiny cracks running through the glaze. On the bottom are two black handwritten characters. Running my hand along the blue dragon circling the neck, a spark of energy makes my fingers tingle. What the...?

  Rays of light radiate through the porcelain. That’s weird. Is there some kind of battery-powered light inside? Something catches my eye. There’s a note inside! I coax the paper out.

  Someone has left a message.

  Dearest Esme,

  I trust you will take good care of my vase. It’s over a hundred years old and is my most cherished antique. I bought the vase with the first money I made as a teacher, so it holds a special place in my heart. Just like you. I know you’ve been through so much. First your mother abandons you, and now I must leave you too. Living with your father after all these years will be difficult. But trust me; things will change for the better soon.

  All my love forever,

  Grandma

  It’s kind of strange that Grandma left me a vase. But the worst part of the note is being reminded she’s gone all over again. I miss her smile and sense of humor so much. I kick at my roller bag. Oh, Grandma, why did you have to die? Like some stupid piece of ceramic is going to
be a substitute for the person I loved.

  My new bedroom doesn’t help my mood. The grass cloth covered walls, bright turquoise drapes, and Indian paisley bedspread scream 1970’s. It’s so very different from my grandmother’s home chalked full of beautiful antiques. Hope Grandma's is right about my life getting better.

  I put the vase up on the dresser. “I promise to take good care of you.” To make sure it’s safe, I nudge the vase back a few more inches. I give it a gentle pat like a puppy. “Maybe you’ll bring me luck.”

  My father’s voice bellows through the half-open bedroom door. “Esme, I thought you were going to take a nap. Who are you talking to?”

  “Ah...I’ve got a friend on the phone.”

  “Well, don’t talk too long. Dinner’s almost ready.”

  “Sure thing.”

  I glance out the window hoping to see a pizza delivery guy—no luck. The sun creeps past the window but the vase continues to glow. I wonder if the spark of energy I felt was just a fluke. Running my finger along the blue dragon’s tail, the pulse of electricity is stronger this time. A puff of mist escapes from the mouth. I reel backward as the vapor drifts like a smoke signal up to the ceiling.

  No way!

  Grandma has to be playing a final trick on me. She always said in her next life she’d be a magician. The room quickly fills with mist. It’s like I’ve turned on a giant vaporizer. I have to back into the corner to breathe. The scent of jasmine and old newspaper hits my nose. Somehow the air is thicker. It tickles the back of my throat as I suck in big gulps to fill my lungs.

  The air slowly begins to clear. A large shape is forming by the dresser. My heart races as I move closer. A young guy stands next to the window wearing a tailored tweed suit topped off by a bowler hat. He’s dressed like a character from Downton Abbey. He’s even wearing a monocle. Could the vase be some kind of time machine? How else could some old-fashioned guy be standing in my bedroom? I grab onto the wall for support. “This can’t be happening!”

  The guy gives me a quick glance and then sniffs his suit jacket. “What is causing you dismay? Do I have an unpleasant fragrance?”

  I focus on his face. He’s just a bit older than me and quite handsome in a dashing hero kind of way. I feel my cheeks flush. “Oh ...no.”

  He tips his hat. “I am Jin. At your service.”

  My vision blurs. I grab onto the chair to keep from fainting. “Where did you come from?”

  A pleasant smile crosses his lips as he points to the vase. “From the porcelain vessel.”

  “Yeah, I know. I mean originally?”

  “That is an exceedingly long tale. All you need to know is that I am here to serve you. I have the power to grant you ten wishes of your choosing.”

  I stumble backward and fall onto the bed. “Wait a sec. You’re a genie?”

  “Most certainly.” He gives me a quick bow. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mistress.”

  “Yeah, right.” This can’t be real. I touch my forehead. It’s hot and clammy.

  “I see you are having a hard time comprehending your good fortune. To be expected.”

  “Okay. If you’re a genie why aren’t you dressed in some kind of Arabian costume? What’s with the ten wishes? Aladdin only got three.”

  Jin pulls the chair up next to me. “The legend of Aladdin is but a myth. A story to tell children at bedtime. I am from the Victorian era.”

  “No way. I saw the Disney movie.”

  Creases form on his forehead. “I do not know what or who Disney is but I assure you, Jin speaks the truth.”

  Can I really be having a conversation with a magical being? I suddenly realize I’m gasping for air again. It’s like all the oxygen has left the room.

  He hands me the glass of water by my bed. “Please regain your composure. I possess no smelling salts to revive you.”

  I take a series of yoga breaths and reach out and touch his hand. His skin is warmer than mine. “I’m sorry. This is a lot for me to take in.”

  “No need to apologize, Mistress. I am used to this type of response. Especially with a female.”

  Terrific. Nothing like being reduced to a cliché. I throw back my shoulders. “First off, call me Esme. Second, I may be a girl but I’m not stupid.”

  He bows his head. “I did not mean to offend you, Esme.”

  “Sorry. I’m just not used to the way you talk. You sound like Darcy. A character from one of my Jane Austen novels.”

  Jin places the bowler hat on the bed revealing a headful of brown wavy hair. “Regrettably, I am not familiar with the author. I must admit I do not understand many of the things you say, either.”

  I let out a sigh. “Don’t you understand slang?”

  “Oh, yes. I am familiar with slang.”

  “Terrific. Now I won’t have a meltdown.”

  “Meltdown? I do not know this term. What does it mean?”

  “That’s how I felt when I first saw you. Like I wanted to collapse.”

  A furrow formed between his brows. “Meltdown means collapse?”

  “Yep. Seems like slang has changed a bit since the nineteenth century. I’ll have to see if I can find you a copy of the urban dictionary so you can understand me.”

  His back stiffens. “I do not need the aid of a book to facilitate my occupation.”

  Jin is one proud genie. “Okay, let’s just play it by ear.”

  “Your ear is musical?”

  This is going to be harder than I thought. The sound of a metallic chirping bird makes Jin jump off his chair.

  “Sorry, it’s my friend phoning me. I’ll call her back later.”

  Jin’s brown eyes grow large and his monocle pops out. He stares at the iPhone in my hand. “What is that strange contraption? Why does it sound like a bird?”

  “You didn’t have telephones in your time?”

  “Certainly. They were far grander and sounded very different. Not like an animal.”

  “The bird chirp is instead of a bell ringing. You can pick any sound you want.” I switch the ringtone to a train whistle and push the button.

  Choo, choo.

  Jin’s shoulders flinch like the train materialized in the room. “The sound is disconcerting.”

  A voice booms from the kitchen. “Esme, get off the phone. Dinner is ready!”

  Oh crap. Can’t let Dad bust me with a genie in my room. “Guess you better pop back into the vase.”

  “Please do not command me to go back inside.”

  “Aren’t there big fluffy cushions for you to lounge on?”

  A puzzled look crosses his face. “Where did you get that notion?”

  “On reruns of I Dream of Jeannie.”

  “I do not have such luxurious accommodations as the genie you speak of. My former master was one of the most famous magicians of his time, but he was a cruel and bitter man. He designed the vase to be like a prison. The inside has dull gray walls that are caked with dirt. There is no place to rest my head.”

  “Wow, that sounds awful.”

  “Indeed. It is quite unpleasant. May I stay in your bedchamber?”

  “Sure.” The way he says bedchamber makes my cheeks flush. “Just be quiet. Don’t want my dad to know you’re here.”

  He watches me as I reach for the door. “I look forward to your return.” He points to my laptop. “You can demonstrate how to use the devices in your room.”

  “There’s been so many inventions since the eighteen hundreds. You’ve got some catching up to do.”

  Jin looks sad to see me go. “I’ll come back as soon as I can.” I walk over to my nightstand and pick up a copy of Seventeen Magazine. “Here, read this while I’m gone.”

  He nods. “I will do as you say, Mistress.”

  I can’t blame Jin for not understanding. Growing up in my grandmother’s Queen Anne cottage, I know what a shock my dad’s 70’s home must be. All the new inventions make it even more overwhelming.

  Waving goodbye, I head for my dad’s kitch
en chock full of avocado-green appliances sandwiched between drab wood cabinetry. A mint-green Formica table is set with two blue bowls. To the side sits a plastic fork and knife set like the ones you get from a take-out joint. Looks like Dad’s going all-out for my welcome home dinner. I sit down and face a bowl overflowing with Kraft mac and cheese. He must still think I’m nine.

  I watch Dad as he washes a spoon off in the sink. He’s thinner than I remember and not nearly as tall. He plops down on the chair across from me. “Dig in.”

  Tearing open the cellophane to get to the plastic fork, I try to act normal—or whatever normal is when you have a genie in your bedroom. Not to mention you haven’t seen your Dad in years. I dig into the cheesy blob. “Yum...my.”

  He beams. “Thought you’d like it. I knew it was your favorite. ”

  Guess he forgot it’s what he made for dinner the night my parents had a huge fight and my mother stormed out of the house never to return.

  “Esme, I know this must be hard on you. Moving here after what happened to your grandmother. But think of how great it will be to get to know each other again.”

  I loved how he wanted me to whisk away my grief. He never loved Grandma. She wasn’t part of his family, just the mother of one of his wives. Still, I have to give him credit for putting on a brave face. He must be less than thrilled to have his long, lost teenaged daughter move in. After all, he took a job clear across the country to avoid me. “Sorry to hear about your divorce.”

  He runs his long fingers through his salt and pepper hair. “Seems I’m no good at marriage.”

  No kidding. Since he divorced my mother he’d married two more times. No wonder he has so much grey in his hair. I give him a weak smile. “Can’t be good at everything.”

  Dad reaches over to touch my hand, but I pull it back just out of reach. Somehow he still feels like a stranger.

  He ignores how awkward the moment is. “Thanks for understanding. You’re so grown-up.”

  “Right. I’m seventeen.”

  “A very mature seventeen.”

  On the plane ride to New York, I told myself to play nice with my dad. If I’ve learned one thing from having the person I love die, it’s that life is short. “Thanks. I try.”